Spawn #TwitteringTales


It’s strange to think that my fondest memories as a child was going out each spring and collecting frog spawn. It just seemed so natural and innocent. It probably started my career too! I’m now head frog and toad keeper at the zoo.

(Inspired by; with thanks).

Frogs Return #TwitteringTales


There were a few ways you could tell the season was changing; warmer weather and green plant shoots, but for me I knew spring was here when the loud croaking and pop splashing of the frogs in my pond started waking me up each morning.

(Inspired by with thanks).

Spring’s Arrival

Long Wing Butterfly on Frog Head Soak on Water

I woke up this morning and looked out of my window.

The flowers were starting to bloom in between the wet grey stones

And there were frogs croaking in my pond.


The frogspawn had frozen. If it was still alive under the ice, Lily didn’t know. She tapped the pond’s frozen surface with her booted toe and watched cracks zigzag from the small dint she had made. The frogspawn seemed unaffected. She bent down and looked at the jelly substance. Maybe some of them would survive, but she would probably never know.